NANO
by moonlight gal
Summary: NANO: Results of experimentation in 2503: products obtained when animal DNA is fused with human genes. Hinata never expected to be part of a revolution in a war-torn world, especially not with an enigmatic leader who she just can't seem to understand.
1. Arc I Chapter One

_**N.A.N.O.**_

_(Arc I)_

_"You know, I've always enjoyed watching people go by near the train tracks. At times, they become discoloured, a black and white blur, coming and going, and passing me by, it makes it seem as if I'm watching everything from the shadows, and watching for too long a time. It's rather hard to know whether I'm dead or alive. It makes me forget who I am, and makes me remember why I'm here."_

-:-:-:-:-

_Eastern District of Finiche,_

_City of Baele, Seienia,_

_55 D.M.S (Descent of the Monarchial System,)_

_Hello, Hanabi. Forgive me for not having written to you for these past five months, but the scientologists have been particularly persistent in their pursuits, as I'm sure you're aware, so I haven't had much time to myself. I know you're worried, and I don't blame you for insisting that I disclose my exact location to you, but you'll have to understand; I can't risk anyone knowing at the moment. Please don't misunderstand, sister, I trust you completely. But if anyone were to start suspecting in the slightest through these letters, everything could go wrong. I can hardly risk penning down my name in these letters, let alone my location. Presently, I have to remain in hiding. I know you'll be angry with my refusal, but just know that wherever I am, I love you. Please take care of yourself. I miss you dearly._

_With love,_

_Your sister._

-:-:-:-:-

The faint ring of the cafe's doors alerted the employees to the presence of yet another customer. The middle-aged man behind the counter briefly glanced up, before dismissively lowering his eyes to the coffee machine again, paying no heed to the new arrival. After all, with the cafe's booming business and flourishing popularity, he had been hearing the same ring after every ten minutes since seven in the morning.

The dainty cafe emitted a rather homely feeling, the new customer observed with casual, honey-brown orbs. A soft, cream wallpaper easy on the eyes, round tables with four chairs around each, and the welcoming scent of fresh pastries, croissants, and coffee greeting the customer's senses.

Her gentle, brown irises cautiously gazed at the faces of the customers and the working employees. Making sure to check all the shadowed corners and concealed doors of the cafe, she deemed it safe to walk forward and seat herself in an inconspicuous corner. She sighed and massaged her temples, sick and frustrated and just plain _tired _of the continuous game of hide-and-seek she'd been playing unwllingly for the past two years.

Quietly giving her order, Hinata Hyuuga lifted the menu in front of her face, so as to conceal her contemplative look from any prying eyes that might happen to take unwanted interest in her.

Fifty-five years it had been, she mused, since the the monarchial system had been completely demolished. The system of kings and queens and nobility and aristocracy had long since been destroyed brutally. The wars had been bloody, she'd heard as a child, and all nations had been forced to choose a side; even those which were governed by a democratic system.

Mindless violence, she thought bitterly, which resulted in nothing except more bloodshed and the death of innocents. War, war, _war. _It never quite ended, did it? She gazed out the window with pained, accusing eyes, and recalled the incident which had forced her (and hundreds of unfortunate others) into the role of a near-refugee.

_'Democracy?' _she thought. '_No. Democracy, this is not. Most definitely not.' _Not when civil wars were breaking out between the liberals and conservatives every three months. The world was war-torn, and the so-called _scientific advances _that the scientologists spoke of did nothing to ease the tension encompassing the whole country of Seienia. If anything, they worsened conditions. Hinata's lips tightened and her fists clenched into the white table-cloth, as she thought of the disgusting measures that the scientologists had referred to as _advancements._

Biting into her croissant, she back-tracked to the events of 25 D.M.S— or rather, the year 2470, as most people referred to it thirty years ago. It was when the system of 'Evolution' had begun. Certain growth-controlling NanoMachines were inserted into infants who were born into the new generation. The aforementioned Machines enabled the bearer to control his/her way of growth and physical development, enabled them to fish out inconvenient _defects._ It allowed a certain 'perfection' in the new generation; no one would be unusually short, nor unusually tall, neither unusually fat, nor unusually thin. No child in the future would have a gap between his teeth, no child would have a strange-looking nose, and no child would have too pointy a chin.

_Perfection, _Hinata thought, sickened. _Evolution._

Times were difficult. The piering sounds of gunshots had faded into the background as common occurences. People didn't dare venture forth outside of their houses after dark, in fear of getting caught up in yet another spontaneous civil war. _Evolution _did nothing to ease their fear and terror.

Unfortunately, the insertion of such devices was nothing more than _mild, _compared to another development that had been restricted to the confines of laboratories only: N.A.N.O. development. Children were investigated through various databases, and those found to be genetically strong and tolerant were selected for the infusion of animal DNA. Not more than mere test subjects, their DNA was inseparably fused with that of specific animals. Most of them were taken in for experimentation forcibly, while some of them, like her, were willingly given away by their families.

(_For the sake of science, was it? _she'd wondered.)

Experimentation had been strictly confidential, and was spoken of only inside the safety of NANO-gene Induction facilities. It had been practised in secret from the public, at least until two years ago. In 2501, an unnamed accident had caused 460 incomplete NANOs (the name given to the _freak _children) to escape from an NGI facility. Out of the 460, 400 had lost control and went berserk, triggering a horrifying killing spree. Hinata flinched, recalling the number of civilians murdered in cold blood. They had been caught and apprehended by the scientologists, of course, and probably disposed of, but that didn't mean that the incident was erased from the minds of the public. It was no wonder that the civilians despised NANOs with a passion now, and Hinata couldn't blame them, but she couldn't blame those berserk NANOs either.

The fortunate sixty that were still sane— and _very much alive_— had enough sense left in them to seek out hiding places for themselves. Even after two years, the scientologists had yet to give up on finding them, and Hinata hoped that the fifty-nine others weren't having as hard a time as _she _was in avoiding the scientologists.

She had an urge to rub her eyes in frustration, but refrained from doing so; she was wearing contacts, after all. It was one of the many insignificant things that came with the package of being a NANO. NANOs often had odd eye colours, and Hinata figured that the lavender-white colour of her irises would make it far too easy for people to recognize her.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair and dug a hand into the pocket of her overcoat. She was running short of money, and if she wanted to survive with two decent meals a day, another round of pick-pocketing was due. Hinata grimaced at the thought; honestly, she _hated _stealing. It was immoral and dishonest and just plain _wrong. _However, she could never risk taking a job for longer than a week. After a month of changing jobs left and right, she figured it was useless, and so turned to her last resort.

The midnight-haired Hyuuga (or former Hyuuga, more appropriately) admitted that animal DNA had its own uses every now and then. Physical deformities weren't all that she was given, after all. All NANOs were gifted— or cursed— with characteristics of their animal. She wasn't sure which animal her DNA had been fused with, but she realised that enough concentration would enable her to see certain _points _(she wasn't really sure what to call them) in a human body. If she applied a little pressure on those points, it could cause temporary paralysis (she had been forced to practice the technique on guards enough times to have mastered it.)

"Hi."

The unfamiliar voice startled Hinata out of her myriad of thoughts. She glanced up from her steaming cup of coffee, and her gaze was met by a slender, smiling woman, perhaps the same age as Hinata herself. Hinata's shoulders tensed unnoticeably in suspicion. She casually surveyed the woman's appearance, while shyly replying, "Uh, hello."

She was a pretty little thing; bubblegum-coloured, shoulder-length hair, jade-green eyes, sparkling like the gems they resembled, unblemished skin, and a pretty smile. Her smile wasn't particularly confident, nor was it particularly shy. It was simply the smile of a strange, with perhaps a touch of demureness.

She gestured to the empty chair across from Hinata, and politely inuired, "May I sit here? The other tables are full."

"Of course," Hinata answered, slightly uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger sitting in such close proximity. Never-the-less, she seemed harmless, and perhaps in need of some company, so Hinata offered her a warm, albeit slightly guarded, smile. She crossed her legs in an attempt to lessen her discomfort, and silently sipped at her coffee, pretending to be oblivious to the pink-haired woman's observing gaze.

"Um," the anonymous woman said, looking at Hinata with a mix of hesitation and a strange self-confidence. "I'm Natsue Kinimoto. It's nice to meet you."

Hinata nodded, pale lips stretching upwards in a soft smile. Extending a hand towards her, she replied, "Kyouko Yamamoto. It's a pleasure to meet you as well."

As the green-eyed woman— _Natsue_, she said her name was— took hold of her hand in a surprisingly strong grip, Hinata ignored the bitterness on her tongue that the fake name had left behind. It had slipped out with practised ease, and it was perhaps the thirtieth name she had used, but not being allowed to tell anyone her real name made her feel as if there was a large, gaping hole in her identity. It wasn't the first time she forced herself to come to terms with the unnerving feeling.

After the half-hearted introductions, Natsue didn't speak a word to her, and Hinata didn't speak a word to Natsue. They were content with biting into their pastries, and even when, at times, Hinata could feel a critical gaze boring into her head intensely, she chose to dismiss her suspicions about the other woman. However, as she was getting ready to push back her chair and stand up, Hinata paused her actions at hearing a gasp escape Natsue's lips.

Wide, jade-coloured eyes were focused on the holographic News Unit across from the bustling street (at least one holographic News Unit was set up in every district of Baele, having replaced the garagantuan T.V. screens that had been used for the same purpose roughly sixty years ago.)

_"The NANO-gene Induction facility in the Manaiya district of Baele, Seienia is reported to have been attacked by an unknown entity. This has been the fifth in a queue of similar attacks, all of which have been focused on NGI-facilities in the city of Baele. A total of sixty-two scientologists and two-hundred test subjects have been killed, with a further seventy-three wounded severly. Scientologist Micheal Cassidy, one of the twenty-eight survivors, is reported to have said that the cause of the explosive attack has yet to be determined, and that it could possibly be the result of mishandling an explosive substance. Reporter, Kohji Lee." _

"Explosive substance?" Hinata heard Natsue mutter faintly under her breath. "_Bullshit_."

"I agree," Hinata agreed quietly. Natsue whipped her head around to stare at her with wide, unsuspecting eyes.

"You— you heard me?"

"W-was I— was I not supposed to?"

Natsue sucked in a breath sharply, before exhaling a sigh of defeat. She pushed her pink bangs behind her ear, and sheepishly said, "No— I mean, uh, no, that's not it. It's just... I didn't think you would agree with me, is all. People just tend to believe what the media tells them."

"That's true."

An atmosphere of silence spread over the two— neither awkward, nor companionable, but simply one where the two parties felt no need to break it with unnecessary words. Hinata traced the rim of her styrofoam cup, speculating on the recent explosion. She had a few guesses on who could have been responsible for the explosions; plausibly a nationalist group of NANO-haters, more passionate than the rest, or perhaps the scientologists themselves— they were crazy enough to try anything, after all.

But the mind-boggler was the number of NANOs who were reported to have died: 200. _Far, far too less_, Hinata speculated. An NGI-facility held at least five-hundred NANOs for testing in a branch. Either the media was hiding the exact death toll, or the NANOs had been shifted out before the explosion took place, and both possibilities left behind too many questions.

_Something is either very wrong, or too right._

-:-:-:-:-

A/N

**Wow, a multi-chaptered fic after such a long time. I know the first chapter is confusing and you might find it boring, but I promise you that things'll begin to get interesting as the story proceeds, especially with the introduction of several more characters ^.^**

**On an extra note, I was listening to Breakin' Through (opening song of Persona, Trinity Soul) when I wrote this xD And as for inspiration, the whole scene of a war-torn country was basically the result of my own surroundings for the past 15 years. I live in Pakistan, people ^_^**

**Yours truly,**

**Moonlight Gal.**


	2. Arc I Chapter Two

_**N.A.N.O.**_

_(Arc I)_

_"You know, I've always enjoyed watching people go by near the train tracks. At times, they become discoloured, a black and white blur, coming and going, and passing me by, it makes it seem as if I'm watching everything from the shadows, and watching for too long a time. It's rather hard to know whether I'm dead or alive. It makes me forget who I am, and makes me remember why I'm here."_

-:-:-:-:-

_Northern District of Manaiya,_

_City of Baele, Seienia,_

_55 D.M.S (Descent of the Monarchial System,)_

_It feels nice to write to you after such a long time, Neji. I hope you're doing well with Tenten over there in Manaiya. I'm sure you've heard of the recent explosion in the district as well, and I hope no harm has come to you two. Truly, I miss seeing you and Hanabi so much, and sometimes I feel like abandoning all this and giving up, if only to see you face-to-face, just once. But you know I can't do that, don't you? I know Hanabi must be crying after receiving my letter (she was always so sensitive, even when she never showed it) and I was hoping if you could perhaps arrange for a trip to Finiche and reassure her a bit. I feel guilty, Neji, for putting her through this, even if it's only to keep her safe. Take care of yourself and Tenten. I miss you._

_Sincerely,_

_Your sister._

-:-:-:-:-

Hinata Hyuuga pressed her trembling knees to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them. Resisting the urge to screw her eyes shut in apprehension, she pressed a pale hand against her panting mouth, and dared to sneak a tentative glance outside the alleyway. The torrential rain fogged her cautious gaze, but a lone silhouette caught her eye. Gulping down a squeak, Hinata pressed herself against the wall of the alley, kneeled down, and covered herself from head to toe with her dark-coloured overcoat.

"Is she there?"

"Doesn't seem like it. I think we lost her."

Her keen ears caught a defeated sigh, before the unfamiliar, vague voice answered, "Never mind. She looked like one of the street rats, anyway. Let her get away with theft once, it won't matter."

_So that was it, _she thought, breathing a muted sigh of relief. _I'll have to be careful with the pick-pocketing from now on. _

Berating herself for the lapse of caution, Hinata patiently waited in the cold alleyway, rubbing her hands together every once in a while, for the rain to relent. When she emerged from the alley roughly an hour later, shivering violently, the telltale colours of dawn were already beginning to paint the sky a mixture of red, pink, and violet.

"Time for breakfast," Hinata murmured to herself, a wry smile stretching her lips upwards. She dug her hand inside the overcoat pocket, and fished out a few bronze coins. Sighing, she said to herself, "Nothing except for a good cup of coffee today, unfortunately."

The former-Hyuuga contemplated visiting a different cafe than the one she'd eaten at the day before (it wouldn't do for her to be known as a regular, after all. Not when she was trying to lay low) but it _had _been a torturously long time since she'd had the pleasure of drinking black coffee that good— and she would _need _a good, strong cup of coffee if she were to stay awake all night, keeping watch for trouble.

Soaked overcoat hanging off her arm, Hinata entered the cafe with careful footsteps and eyes subtly scanning the spacious shop. She collapsed in one of the chairs in the corner, limbs aching and a mild headache plaguing her peace of mind. Stifling her moans and groans was becoming a harder task day by day.

Honestly, living the kind of life she did, there was seldom any 'plan of action' or any 'suvival tactics' at all. She simply did what she had to do, and may God help her from there. Waiting for her coffee to cool down, Hinata vaguely registered the ring alerting her to the arrival of another customer. It had become a habit for her to discreetly observe any new arrivals from the corner of her eye, judging them— from their appearance, their expression, their way of talking and walking— within mere seconds. She'd become quite good at it, if she said so herself.

The new customer evoked an odd tingling at the back of Hinata's mind. A brunette with chocolate-brown eyes behind square-shaped spectacles, looking to be about thirty years old, with an angular face and a lean physique. He seemed strangely familiar, if the alarms ringing in a vague corner of Hinata's mind were any indication.

The nameless brunette gracefully seated himself at the table directly behind Hinata's. One of the waitresses approached him, and warmly said, "Welcome, sir. What would you like today?"

Hinata's keen ears missed neither the use of the word 'today,' nor the obvious smile in the voice of the waitress. _He must be a regular. _

"An expresso and a brownie will do just fine, Lena. Thank you," he replied amicably.

"It'll be ready in minute," the waitress— Lena— said. "_Ah_, and I heard about that explosion in Manaiya yesterday. Is everything alright up there?"

Immediately, the hair at the back of Hinata's neck stood upright, her shoulders tensed, and her sense of hearing sharpened. She tilted her head to the side slightly, furrowing her eyebrows at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

"You must've heard the death toll, surely. A pity how many scientologists had to die. Several are in the hospitals, removed from active duty. It's a shame, really."

"I do hope your colleagues get well soon, Mr. Cassidy. I'll be praying for them."

_Colleagues? _

"Thank you, Lena. I'm sure they'll appreciate that."

_A scientologist? Here?_

"Oh, God," Hinata mumbled, a toe-curling sensation of dread spreading through her rapidly. Forcing herself out of her stupor, she thought frantically, _I need to get out of here. I need to get of here, and I need to get out _now.

Slowly inhaling and exhaling, she calmed her laboured breathing. Several possibilities racing through her mind, Hinata forced away the panic overcoming her senses, and inwardly considered her options, _I need to wait for a while, wait so that he doesn't get suspicious. I can't rush out of here like a bat out of hell, because if he gets even the _slightest _bit suspicious, I'm_—

From her peripheral vision, the lilac-eyed NANO caught sight of a waitress, sauntering towards her table with a tray carrying Hinata's order. Her eyes widened in trepidation at the thought of the attention that may be drawn to her. _No, not now. No, no, no_—

Quickly bundling her overcoat in her arms again, she stood up abruptly, startling some of the customers around her. In big strides, she scampered towards the exit, warily aware of the stares aimed at her back. Just before pushing the door open, Hinata barely caught the narrowing and sudden widening of cocoa-brown eyes in realisation, and broke into a run as soon she stepped outside.

_Twice in the same day? I knew that cafe wasn't a good idea. I knew it._

Alarmed by the jingling of the cafe's bell and the sound of running footsteps behind her, Hinata quickened her pace. She made a sharp turn into the street leading to the main road, where the market-place was. She would have to dodge and blend in with the crowd somehow.

Chancing a quick glance behind her, the midnight-haired NANO shouldered her way through the thick crowd frantically with half-hearted apologies, before she found herself bumping into someone. Gasping when she hit the ground, Hinata looked over her shoulder to see how far her pursuer was. She stood up, panting, and prepared her aching legs to break into a run again.

"I'm so sorry," a voice behind her said apologetically. "I should've looked where I was— Y-Yamamoto-san? Is that you?"

Hinata whipped her head around, only to find jade-green eyes gazing at her with surprise.

"Kinimoto-san," Hinata briefly nodded, brushing past her. "I'm sorry, but I _really _have to go. I'll talk you some other time—"

"Please," Natsue grabbed a hold of her wrist, "wait. Where are you going?"

Tugging at her wrist and making a mental note to apologize to the pink-haired woman later, Hinata answered quickly, "That's really none of your concern, Kinimoto-san, but I really have to go _now, _so if you would please just—"

Natsue's eyes darted towards the brunette still following Hinata's trail, before her eyes narrowed and she whispered, "Follow me."

"W-what?"

"Please don't ask questions. Just follow me."

Natsue turned around, Hinata's wrist still in hand, and began pushing her way through the crowd. With one last look over her shoulder, Hinata decided to save all questions for later. She let Natsue guide her, and decided that if anything started seeming suspicious, she would just have to temporarily paralyse the woman before making her escape.

-:-:-:-:-

After several twists and turns through alleyways, narrow streets, and roundabouts, the two reached a secluded area— somewhere near the outskirts of town, Hinata guessed— where several old, abandoned buildings stood on the verge of collapsing.

"Come," Natsue said, tugging at her wrist.

"Kinimoto-san, where... where is this?"

"My home, Yamamoto-san."

"Y-you live here?"

Natsue partially tilted her head to smile faintly at Hinata, guessing her train of thought. "It's relaxing, though you might not be able to guess at first."

Hinata was led to the top floor of one of the buildings (and she wondered why Natsue chose the top floor when the bottom ones were deserted, but never voiced her queries aloud.) Natsue's steps eventually slowed, until she stopped in front of a doorway covered with nothing more than a tattered, grey cloth, which Hinata assumed was supposed to serve as a curtain.

Natsue pulled the cloth to the side, smiled, and welcomed, "Home sweet home. It's not much, but it's all I can offer at the moment. I hope you don't mind such a worn-down place."

"N-no! No, of course not," Hinata replied. She wrung her hands together anxiously, pushed a stray strand of midnight-blue hair behind her hair, and inquired with a small voice, "Kinimoto-san, w-why— why did you bring me here? I mean, why do all this?"

"Ah, well," Natsue said offhandedly, stepping inside her abode and gesturing for Hinata to take a seat. "You just seemed like you needed... a place to stay in, is all. I figured I might as well help out, you know?"

"Is that it?" Hinata quietly asked, filtering the suspicion out of her voice and readying her fingers for striking a few pressure points, if it proved necessary.

"I understand that you might not trust me," Natsue sighed, holding her arms up in a sign of surrender, "but I can tell you that I only intend to help. No ulterior motives, I swear."

"It's not that I don't— well, I _don't _trust you, to be completely honest, but I'm grateful for all the help you've given me. I really am, but I still don't understand _why _you would help me, and forgive me if I sound a bit suspicious— even though I really _am _grateful for your help— but it just isn't a normal occurence for people to offer strangers a home and... and such _hospitality_, Kinimoto-san."

Natsue looked at her with eyes no different than the ones Hinata had seen in that cafe just two days before, but the self-assuredness and tenacity swimming in the sea-green depths made her feel as if she was talking to a different woman; someone more confident, more certain, more _willful_.

"I know where you're coming from, but you'll have to understand that I don't feel obligated to tell _anyone _my reasons, Yamamoto-san," Natsue said calmly, quietly, before letting loose an ironic smile. "By the way, I think I should stop calling you that, shouldn't I?"

Hinata froze, and for a few seconds, the rustling of the curtain was the only sound in the room.

"I beg your pardon?" she whispered, feeling a heart-stopping wave of dread sweep through her.

"'Yamamoto,'" Natsue repeated casually. "That isn't your real name, is it?"

_She knows._

Hinata took a step backwards, eyes rapidly losing their trusting glint, shoulders rapidly losing their relaxed posture. Natsue looked up at her curiously.

_She knows who I am. She knows _what _I am._

"You knew about the scientologist chasing me the whole time, didn't you?" Hinata murmured, barely able to make her lips move.

"Wait—"

When Natsue stood up with an arm outstretched, obviously intending to stop her, Hinata's honey-brown eyes hardened and her lips tightened, dipping into a sharp frown. When Natsue saw the guarded expression, her pretty features contorted into a flinch, and she lowered her arm.

"This isn't— listen—" Natsue explained futilely. "_Please_, I only want to help you. I'm not ratting you out to the scientologists, okay?_ I'm not_. Listen to me, _please._"

_I can't trust you. I'm sorry. I can't trust _anybody. _I can't—_

Unheeding of Natsue's desperate pleas, Hinata sprinted.

-:-:-:-:-

**Yes, there IS a reason why Natsue is so desperate to help Hinata ^_^ And some other characters from the Rookie 9 will be making an appearance soon as well (probably not in the next chapter, but maybe in the one after that.)**

**If anybody cares, song of inspiration: A Hero Without a Name, by An Cafe (An cafe is really, really awesome, by the way ^_^ but Dir en Grey is still the best *_* )**

**Anywayyyy, I hope you guys enjoyed this one, although the plot still isn't in motion as of yet, and it's not **_**going **_**to be for the next three or four chapters xD**

**Review replies:**

**FallenRaindrops: Wow, thank you =D Personally, I thought the first chapter was kind of boring, so the fact that you found it interesting is actually very reassuring to me xD I hope you'll be with my throughout this entire fic (which I think is going to turn out to be pretty long xD)**

**hannah askance: Whoa, that has to be the longest and best review I've ever gotten O.O You are officially my new best friend xD ****As for your assumption of the Rookie 9 being NANOs, that's not entirely correct, and not entirely wrong. I'll try to update as fast as I can to show you the development of the plot (which, like I said, has yet to be set in motion.) I really, really appreciate everything you've written in your review, and I hope to hear from you again soon =D**

**MmmmChineseFood: Thank you very, very much ^_^ I truly appreciate your review, and I hope you'll continue supporting me.**

**LadyOfMist92: Thank you so much! I'm glad that you enjoyed the first chapter and I hope I won't let you down in the future. And as for the animals, don't worry, no bunnies and mice, I promise xD**

**Echo Uchiha: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! =D**

**misamisa3: I'm relieved you found the plot interesting. I hope you're willing to stick with this fanfic until it ends, because it's honestly due to reviewers like you that a chapter can turn out as good as it does ^_^**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Moonlight Gal**


	3. Arc I Chapter Three

_**N.A.N.O.**_

_(Arc I)_

-:-:-:-:-

_"You know, I've always enjoyed watching people go by near the train tracks. At times, they become discoloured, a black and white blur, coming and going, and passing me by, it makes it seem as if I'm watching everything from the shadows, and watching for too long a time. It's rather hard to know whether I'm dead or alive. It makes me forget who I am, and makes me remember why I'm here."_

-:-:-:-:-

_Eastern District of Finiche,_

_City of Baele, Seienia,_

_55 D.M.S (Descent of the Monarchial System,)_

_Hello, father. I truthfully don't know why I'm writing to you after not having had any contact with you for almost four years. I know you're probably not going to find this amongst the piles and piles of documents and contracts you receive everyday, let alone read it, but I thought I should take a risk for once_— _after all, I've been kept from taking chances my entire life. Father, I have a lot of things I want to tell you, but time is a rare blessing these days, for you as well as I. I just want you to know that I feel no resentment towards you for your actions. I love you, if only because I do not and cannot have a second father. I can only hope that, sometime in your life, you've felt proud of me for something. That's all. Take care of yourself, father._

_Sincerely,_

_Your daughter._

-:-:-:-:-

Hinata Hyuuga sat languidly with her chin resting in her palm, eyes glazed over, lost in a haze of contemplation— a far cry from the usual wariness and guardedness.

How long had it been, she wondered offhandedly, since she'd had the pleasure of human contact? Gaze meeting gaze, hand meeting hand, smile meeting smile; Hinata smiled sardonically— a smile she showed no one but herself, aimed _at _no one but herself— as she recalled glancing innocently outside the window of her spacious room as a child of eleven, sighting so many of what the maids referred to as 'street rats' and 'dirt.'

They used to linger around the gardens often, Hinata remembered; all in their tattered clothes and mud-smudged faces and bare feet and desolate, desolate eyes. How often had she been told— no, _taught_— to view them with disdain instead of pity, scorn instead of compassion? Because, after all, they _weren't even worth the dirt on the bottom of her patterned, silk kimono._

How proud her dear, old tutors would be of her now, she wondered. Their sheltered heiress, their symbol of traditional pride— reduced to wearing the same overcoat for four straight weeks. _The horror._

She leaned back against the wall of the alleyway she was residing in for the night. What had the world been reduced to, really? Hinata sighed and blinked away the tears prickling the back of her eyes with practised ease. She rubbed her arms (too much use of her paralysis abilities much a rather huge strain on her elbow joints and shoulder blades, she'd found out) and stood up with wobbly knees. The sun was setting, and the growls of her stomach were getting more and more stubborn by the minute.

Hinata stretched her arms high above her head, breathing in the faint smell of sunset— a scent she had not known the existence of just a few years ago, and now, she had come to identify it as something rather welcoming. Snatching up her overcoat from the ground and brushing off the dirt on it, she forced a smile on her face. It was a trick her best friend had taught her, Hinata recollected.

_"You know, if you smile even when you feel sad, I've heard that it can make you feel a lot better sometimes. It tires you out, but you start smiling genuinely eventually. Take it from me, I've tried it!"_

The two girls were all but mere children back then, running around in their gardens, playing tag and dress-up. Hinata knew that her friend's words were one of the many things a child tends to say off the top of his head sometimes, but perhaps she simply wanted something to remember the energetic blonde by.

Within two days, Hinata did not admit to feeling any 'connection' with Natsue Kinimoto as her destined friend, but she did, however, admit that the pink-haired woman's determination had often reminded Hinata of Ino Yamanaka. Admittedly, she missed Natsue's independence and grit, even when she did not miss the woman herself. And direct human contact _was_ a rare luxury nowadays— Hinata missed looking at Natsue eye-to-eye, asking her a question, and receiving a straightforward answer aimed at her and her _only_. It was rather refreshing.

Dismissing the thought from her mind, Hinata bit into her stolen Danish sugar biscuit, gulping it down as fast as she could. She passed the fruit stands and street hawkers, fast on her feet.

As Hinata eyed the darkening sky, a quick hand gripped her shoulder and forcefully pulled her in through the open doors of a nearby bakery. The lavender-eyed woman gasped, instinctually and swiftly gathering energy in her fingers, but found that her wrists were tightly held in place by two slender-looking hands with unexpected strength. She glanced up in fright, finding a forlorn face with two orbs of jade, seeming as if they were looking right through her.

"I really didn't want to do this," Natsue admitted, a pained expression overcoming her features. "I really, really didn't want to do this, but I just have to talk to you."

"Let go," Hinata murmured, a protective gleam in her eyes, but her voice remained soft; a fact which didn't escape Natsue.

"I _have _to talk to you. There are too many things I want to know and there are too many things I want _you _to know, so please—"

"Kinimoto-san, if you don't release me, I'm either going to scream, or I'm going to start _thrashing,_" Hinata warned, "and I assure you, I'm not above that."

Natsue's lips tightened. Leaning closer, she said, "You're not going to make a scene in a crowded bakery, Yamamoto-san. I know that, and _you _know it even better."

Hinata remained silent.

"Sit down," Natsue compelled.

"No."

"You don't have a choice," Natsue snapped, the volume of her voice increasing just slightly. Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration, and she continued, "All I want you to do is _listen _to me, and you're just making this more difficult than it has to be. It's been _weeks _since we've last met, and if I haven't told the scientologists about you yet, then I'm not going to do so later."

"What reason have you given me to trust you—"

"You don't _have _to trust me, you just have to _sit down and listen._"

Her instincts— built firmly inside of her by four harsh years on the streets— begged Hinata to argue, to struggle, but something unidentifiable swimming within Natsue's jade-green depths pleaded for something— not riches, not mercy, not forgiveness, but _something, _and as much as Hinata had steeled herself and her mind and her _heart_, she couldn't restrain her eyes from softening and her resolve from weakening ever-so-slightly.

"You know what? If— if you just... _sit down _for a minute and listen to me, I'll tell you everything about myself. _Everything_, being completely honest, I swear, I'll be completely honest," Natsue assured. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, and then, you can decide yourself whether you want to trust me or not. Is that okay?"

Hinata hesitated, making one last, weak attempt to pull her wrist free of Natsue's hold. Her effort was barely recognized, and Hinata had to wonder where all that strength came from.

Sighing, she resigned herself to her fate.

"A-alright," she agreed softly, still careful not to attract the attention of any customers or passerbys, and convinced herself that the bright, grateful smile aimed at her did not make her feel better about her (foolish, she was sure) choice in the slightest.

-:-:-:-:-

Once the two were seated at the corner table of the quaint bakery, and Hinata's hands were released, she dared not use them on Natsue (the unspoken threat in the woman's eyes did not go unnoticed: _You try anything, and I might just go ahead and do what I promised not to._)

Lilac eyes (concealed, of course) surveyed their location, finding that it rather suited her tastes; a spacious, airy room, but with hardly any giant windows. The tables had a fair amount of distance between them, and she sighted no waiters or waitresses to intrude upon private conversations. The entire place, all in all, spoke of discretion. Inwardly, Hinata declared her approval.

"Alright," Natsue spoke, sighing. "I told you I would tell you everything, and I don't intend to go back on my word now. But first things first; a fresh start is in order, I think. What do you say?"

Hinata replied, nodding, "Agreed."

"Alright then," she extended a hand towards her. "I'm Sakura. Pleased to meet you."

Grasping Natsue's— _no, Sakura's_— hand, Hinata responded, "My name is Hinata. It's nice to meet you as well."

Last names wouldn't be given away. It was a mutual agreement on both their parts, Hinata knew. Inwardly, she smiled sardonically, realising what picture she and her _acquaintance _must be presenting; exchanging sugar-coated pleasantries and clasping hands with such unwavering, unrelenting eyes, fixated on one another with unspoken messages— which were anything but sugar-coated. It must have made for a comical scene, Hinata supposed.

"Well," Sakura began, somewhat awkwardly, and pulled her hand back. "What exactly do you want to know?"

"Who are you?" Hinata answered without delay. "I mean, who... who _are _you, precisely? I'm sorry, I know I'm not making much sense, but—"

"No. No, it's fine. I understand," Sakura interrupted. Steeling her nerves, she looked ahead with hardened, green eyes (and Hinata suddenly had the feeling that Sakura wasn't really looking at her at all,) and replied in a hushed, but unwavering tone. "I'm a NANO, Hinata. Just like you."

The words didn't really register, not with the hushed voices and the peals of laughter and the loving whispers of people in the background. Not with Sakura looking _through _her (and her pretenses and facades and weakness and strengths—) rather than _at _her, and most definitely not with that voice of reason loudly screaming, screeching, _'Liar!' _in every corner of Hinata's mind. The reverberation was oddly deafening; as if Hinata was simply not meant to listen to Sakura— _liar, liar, liar_—

"Liar," she whispered— whispered with more contempt than she had thought herself capable of.

The pink-haired woman flinched, and Hinata no longer saw the willfull, determined Sakura, but the vulnerable Natsue in her place.

"I'm not," Sakura whispered, grasping the edge of the table.

"_Liar,_" Hinata repeated, hating the way her voice cracked.

"I'm _not_!" she exclaimed, unheeding of the curious stares aimed at her. "I'm not! I—"

Her breath hitched, she leaned forward, and perhaps Hinata could later admit to feeling guilty for having caused the desperation (_for what_, she wondered idly) in Sakura's eyes, clear as day.

"I'm not lying, I swear, _I swear,_" green eyes darted to her right, where the customers had already shifted their attention away from what they presumed to be a squabble between friends. "I can even prove it to you, Hinata. Just— please believe me, I—"

"Proof? W-what kind of proof?" Hinata asked, alarmed.

Sakura paused briefly, contemplating, before she breathed in deeply and leaned forward, until her head was just about hanging from her neck, and a veil of pink tresses was shielding her face from view. She paused again, eyes darting left and right, and tentatively raised her hands to her eyes. When she pulled them back, Hinata saw two contact lenses resting on the tips of her fingers, and truthfully speaking, she felt neither entirely indifferent, nor entirely taken by surprise.

Her eyes were still green, Hinata saw, breath hitching. However, traces of the previous dull, jade-green eyes (which Hinata was foolish enough to compare to _gems_. Inwardly, she scoffed at herself) weren't found. They had been replaced by a bright— _painfully _bright, almost— emerald, almost electronic green. Brilliantly beaming, Hinata could barely even care to listen to Sakura's words when she was looking at them.

"I— listen, you have to believe me, _please. _It's been years— feels like c_enturies_— since I've... since I've seen someone like _me_, you know? And I just, I don't _know_,_ God damnit_," she fisted her hand in her hair in frustration. "I just wanted to _talk, _okay? I don't... I don't know who you are, where you came from, whatever, but you have to believe me when I say that I _just want to know you. _For five years—" Hinata heard her choke back a sob, "for five fucking _years, _I've had _nothing, _okay? _Nothing_, and I— you know what I'm trying to say, don't you? You_ know,_ because _I_ know you're the same—"

"This is dangerous, Sakura-san," Hinata said quietly. "I believe you, and I— I know what you must be feeling, and I know it's _horrible, _but this is dangerous. Two NANOs together— if we're caught, the consequences could be worse. You know that."

"Nobody's getting caught, Hinata—"

"You can't say that," Hinata protested, eyebrows furrowing and eyes dampening. "To be honest, I really like you, Sakura-san, and I know I could seek a friend in you and get one, but I have a family, and _you _probably have one too— and in a place like this, there's no chance of suvival if we get careless. I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

Hinata stood up, straightening her overcoat. She smiled— true and genuine, albeit sad— at Sakura, saying softly, "We're in the wrong place at the wrong time, Sakura-san, and we have to suffer and survive; maybe because no one else will— no, because no one else _can,_" she bowed respectfully, "I'm happy to have met you— and I say this honestly— but I'll have to ask you not to look for me again. Goodbye."

With one last smile, Hinata departed, leaving a bewildered Sakura in her wake.

-:-:-:-:-

**I'm really, really sorry for the extra wait, but the mock exams are so annoying. I hate geography, seriously. It should just go die. **

**Something I'd like to share: You know that first bit of the chapter? Yes, well, the emotions stemmed from something I saw a week back, and I'd like to share with you if you would care to listen. I was sitting in my car, in front of the signal, and this little boy (he was in the third grade, about eight years old) came up to the window, and asked me to buy a packet of biscuits. I asked him how much he earned, and he told me, "One ruppee for every packet I sell, sister."**

**I'm sorry, this may seem insignificant to you, but I happen to be crying like an idiot while writing this, because it's just so **_**sad and unfair**_**, and I'm crying for my country and that kid and every other unfair thing I know children like him have to face. **

**Yes, that concludes my ranting, and I ask that you give me some time between updates until the end of this week (darned mocks.) I apologize for the short chapter. If it's any consolation, I'll start giving you chapters about 4000 words long once my mocks are over and done with xD**

**Song of inspiration: Raindrop Street, by Kelun (sweet song, do listen to it ^_^)**

**Yours truly,**

**Moonlight Gal. **


	4. Arc I Chapter Four

_**N.A.N.O.**_

_(Arc I)_

-:-:-:-:-

_"You know, I've always enjoyed watching people go by near the train tracks. At times, they become discoloured, a black and white blur, coming and going, and passing me by, it makes it seem as if I'm watching everything from the shadows, and watching for too long a time. It's rather hard to know whether I'm dead or alive. It makes me forget who I am, and makes me remember why I'm here."_

-:-:-:-:-

_Northern District of Manaiya,_

_City of Baele, Seienia,_

_55 D.M.S (Descent of the Monarchial System,)_

_How are you, Tenten? I hear the baby's due in a few weeks, and I suppose I couldn't help wanting to ask how you're holding up. Neji told me that you two were planning to make me the Godmother, but I guess that won't work out very well anymore, will it? Maybe you'll consider Hanabi, even though she's never had much of a fixation towards children. In any case, I pray that everything will turn out for the best in the end. Be sure to take care of yourself, okay? I wish you a safe delivery, Tenten. Give Neji my best wishes. I miss both of you dearly._

_With love,_

_Your sister._

-:-:-:-:-

Blowing on her shivering hands, Hinata Hyuuga gripped a sharp stone tightly in her paling hand and etched a line onto the wall of the alleyway. Glancing at the other lines beside it— crossed out, all of them— a dry chuckle escaped her throat. Uncle Hizashi had often told her, she recalled nostalgically, that this was the way hopeless prisoners used to count their days in olden, historic times. Admittedly, she wasn't very far from his description (at least, of what she could remember from it, and from a past she'd wanted to bury, but never quite managed to do so.)

Burying her hands into her pockets in face of the biting cold, she chanced another quick glance back at it as she left. Approximately two months, she deduced, since she had last seen Sakura. The feeling of having lost something that had brushed the tips of her fingers welled up within her again. She had become rather well-aquainted with it, and the familiarity of it gripped her harder than ever before.

Thirty minutes later, Hinata found herself at the doorstep of the Sarutobi Cafe for what was perhaps the third time in the present week. She smiled exasperatedly— more at herself than anything else— and stepped inside, her ears catching the familiar ring of the transparent doors. She recalled the first time she had stepped through the same doors; truthfully, all she could remember was a good cup of coffee and soft, dull, green eyes.

(_Ah, how those eyes had changed, piercing through her very soul_—)

Something within her twinged, and she abruptly cut off that train of thought.

Hinata's ears faintly registered the ring of the bell, and she looked over her shoulder to find a brown-haired teenager, not looking to be a day over nineteen, hurry over to the table beside hers. A modest-looking girl sat there stiffly, her shoulders relaxing at the sight of the boy's warm smile that greeted her. It caused Hinata to smile gently, as she wordlessly blessed them the best of luck.

"I guess I'm a bit late, huh? Sorry, I got a little held up," the boy apologized, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. The girl shook her head. Hinata tuned them out as much as she could, wanting to grant them privacy, although bits and pieces of the conversation still reached her polished ears.

"It isn't a problem," she heard the girl say shyly. "I'm sure you weren't late on purpose. It wasn't anything serious though, was it?"

"Ah, no, not really. See, well, don't tell anyone I told you this, okay? Uh, my uncle works in one the NGI facilities downtown— in the Falltox District— and he was telling my dad about one of the NANOs being caught just recently—"

"Really? Wow, I mean, it's been _ages _since they've caught one—"

Immediately, Hinata's eyes snapped open, and her hearing sharpened to catch the hushed voices of the couple.

"Yeah, it has, hasn't it? About time. Hell, the whole country's been on edge since 53 D.M.H. It was horrible."

The girl nodded her agreement. She said, "Do you know what it looked like? The NANO, I mean."

_It, _Hinata repeated in her head with distaste and repulsion. _An 'it,' they call it. _

"No. I— I think Uncle was going to tell him, but," he chuckled, "but then I saw the clock, and then, I just kind of, _rushed _down here, you know?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

"No, no, it's okay, seriously," the boy said, combing a hand through his haphazard hair. "He said— I don't know what the hell he was talking about, actually— he just said something about _abnormal genes _or something, like it was different from the other murderers—"

Hinata pushed her chair back and stood up calmly, despite frantically digging for any information about 'abnormal genes' in her mind. Perhaps it was the strange urgency of the conversation that had struck her, or perhaps it was the fact that she and her kind had been referred to as murderers, but whatever the case, a sudden urge to exit the cafe overwhelmed her, and she abstractedly decided on her next destination.

_Central News Unit,_ she thought, pushing open the transparent doors, _Central News Unit. Falltox District._

-:-:-:-:-

The heart of the city was miles apart from the slums, both literally and figuratively.

The famed Falltox District was bustling with life, Hinata saw, and the fearful, hushed whispers of its people reached her in abundance. _NANO, NANO, _they were whispering, and Hinata had to wonder if the word left a bitter aftertaste in _their _mouths, like it did in hers.

She shouldered her way through the murmuring crowd of adults, elders, children; all with a haze of loathing and abhorrence spread over their eyes, more prominent in some than others— and Hinata immediately guessed where they must have been mere minutes ago.

The Central News Unit of Falltox was a sight to behold, truly. Looking upon it, Hinata honestly felt that she would've been marvelling at the technological advancements it made use of, had it not been for what those technological advancements were presently showing. The familiar pink hair, the oval-shaped face, the pale-pink lips, and the green eyes (neither dull jade, nor piercing emerald) which Hinata could've recignized anywhere.

She shook off the shock of seeing Sakura as a mere teenager of thirteen, smiling prettily at the several spectators gathering around. The holographic image of the child— because, really, _this _Sakura was nothing more than a naive, idealistic child— looked down at Hinata from the top of a high-rise building, the image being huge enough to seem as if it was spread across the sky. Staring at Sakura's eyes (Hinata marvelled at how different they used to be,) she almost missed the booming voice of the reporter.

_"_— _having escaped from the official NGI-facility of Manaiya in 53 D.M.S, NANO Sakura Haruno was recently apprehended by scientologists Shun Taro and Maki Tayun, at approximately 1:46 a.m. on the 20th of November. She is suspected to hold affiliations with fifty-seven other NANOs who have yet to be apprehended. Haruno is currently being imprisoned in a NANO-gene Induction facility on account of the two murders she is suspected to have committed, as well as for public safety reasons. Scientologists have asked the public to restrain from panicking, claiming that it is only a matter of time before the other NANOs are apprehended as well. It is unclear whether scientologists intend to execute Haruno or not, however, they have requested citizens to_—_"_

_Enough. Enough, I've had enough, _Hinata thought. Sighing despondently, she raised a hand to push back her bangs from her forehead. With one, last look at the thirteen-year-old Sakura Haruno, Hinata turned on her heel and ran to a place she hadn't thought she would ever be visiting again.

-:-:-:-:-

_Sakura-san replaced the curtain_.

Stepping inside the worn-down, secluded apartment, pulling aside the white, freshly-washed sheet hanging in the doorway, this was the first thought that entered Hinata's mind. Her eyes darted to every corner of the apartment, not particularly surprised to find the suffocating condominium trashed, as if it had been subjected to the wrath of a particularly vicious tornada not too long ago.

If she wasn't horrified, Hinata figured she would've been amused that the curtain was still intact, when the inside was torn apart piece-by-piece.

She cautiously advanced, step-by-step, occasionally pushing aside rubble with her foot. Hinata surveyed the apartment, and she was fairly surprised to find a strange urge welling up within her chest again; to cry, to scream, to _let go._ She couldn't deny that she truly wanted to find Sakura and bring her back, but she simply couldn't waltz into the lion's den for someone she barely knew. She would never succeed.

_I need to find out why they took her,_ she thought. _It isn't just because she's a NANO. I know it's not._

Because, judging from the condition of Sakura's home, the scientologists had truly fought tooth and nail for her capture— had fighting a NANO been so easy a feat, the horrifyingly large death toll of 53 D.M.S. would never have existed.

And so Hinata, lost in a plethora of speculative thoughts, walked the streets of Baele with a tension in her footsteps that had never been present before— not even during the beginning weeks she had spent as a fresh NANO, during which she had slaved over pieces of bread and scraps of clothing.

A trembling breath left her lips, as she recalled the painstaking measures she'd had to apply for the sake of anonymity. Hell, she even grew her hair out to her waist— it was miles apart from the boyish cut she'd sported as a child of nineteen, at the time of experimentation. She was a grown woman of twenty-three now, and yet, the sense of loss hadn't faded. The hardships of being a NANO still didn't quite seem like a part of routine, rather, they felt like something that had been heaped upon Hinata by God unconditionally.

_God doesn't play dice with the universe, _she reminded herself, half of her believing and the other half laughing. _No dice with the universe. No dice with the universe. No_—

She gasped and screwed her eyes shut as she was thrown back against the wall of a nearby building, along with several others on the street. Hinata groaned, feeling a shock of pain as she collided with it. Tentatively, she opened her eyes, planning to run from the spot as fast as her legs could take her. Unfortunately, she was hindered by a dense cloud of dust and smoke, and she found herself wondering with utter bewilderment where in the world the sudden explosion had come from— if it _was _an explosion, because she honestly couldn't be sure of anything at this point.

Clasping a hand over her mouth and resisting the urge to cough, Hinata whipped her head left and right, desperately searching for any sign as to _what the hell was going on, _and finding nothing except civilians kneeling and lying on the ground, clutching their arm or leg or stomach or some other bloodied body part. With a start, Hinata herself realised that there was a stream of blood flowing down her own face from her hairline.

As some of the dust cleared, Hinata squinted her eyes to read one of the several sign boards in front— a feat in itself, since she could barely see them. After half a minute of attempted deciphering, she managed to read one of the boards nearest to her: _Caution. Do not enter._

_Huh?_

Pausing for a few seconds, Hinata crawled forward on her knees and hands, craning her neck for a better view of the largest board. It was hung higher than the others, and as Hinata made out what was written on it, her eyes widening in horror and disbelief, she felt as if the words might as well have been screaming at her.

_Official NANO-gene Induction Facility of Scrimdar._

And suddenly, the explosion made perfect sense.

_You can't be serious._

-:-:-:-:-

"Oh, God," Hinata whispered, clutching her wounded leg as she stood up. "Oh, _God. _Why here?"

The terrified screams and shrieks, coupled with the desperate cries for help were beginning to grate on her nerves, making her head pound more than it already was. Had she been a swear-person in the slightest, Hinata knew she would have been cursing these circumstances to the deepest depths of hell. Blowing stray strands away from her face, she looked up in alarm at the sound of several vehicles driving into the area.

"Crime-preventation organisations? _Now_?" Hinata speculated, mumbling to herself. "Which one is it?"

Several men, all clad in similar black suits, rushed out of the large vehicles. Splitting up, they spread around the area, holding what Hinata presumed to be emergency first-aid kits, and scurried over to the bodies littering the ground. Some were loaded onto the vehicles, while others were given immediate medical attention— it wouldn't take more than a few bare minutes for one of the men to reach her, Hinata realised with dread, and it would take them even less to realise just who they had stumbled upon unknowingly.

A flash of pink in Hinata's peripheral vision caught her attention. She cautiously turned her head to the left, just in time to see a slender shadow disappear behind one of the residential buildings in the region. The flash of bubblegum pink had reminded her of bright, sad emerald eyes, which, in turn, had reminded her of a face she'd wanted to forget and remember at the same time.

_No. There's no way. There's just no way._

A few more looks over her shoulder, and Hinata decided to take advantage of the smoke hindering her— and many others'— vision. She muffled a gasp as she stood up, feeling pinpricks of pain in her upper thigh, and traced the shadow's path in a limping panic.

Turning around the corner of the building, she came upon the sight of someone leaning against the near-demolished wall, breathing in pants and sharp gasps, clothes bloodied heavily and face smudged with dirt.

Sakura Haruno whipped her face around to face Hinata, pink locks— damp with sweat and blood, Hinata noticed regrettably— slapping her cheek in the process.

"Who— _stay away_," Sakura whispered fiercely, and Hinata missed neither the tremor in her voice, nor the violent wince as she spoke. "Whoever you are, _stay away from me. _Stay away, or I'll fucking _kill _you—"

"It's me," Hinata spoke— softly, sadly, and regrettably, enough to surprise herself even.

Sakura paused, breathing erratically, before whispering (with much less ferocity,) "H-Hinata?"

"It's me," she repeated, shaken by the sheer desperation in Sakura's voice. "It's me."

Sakura stared at her for a moment, her clouded eyes seemingly unseeing, before Hinata watched a lone tear streak down her cheek, and suddenly, she felt as if a dam had broken— had _shattered_— inside of her after a wait of countless years. Streams of tears rolled down Hinata's cheeks— _endless, uncontrollable_— and she paid them no heed. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed against the building, soundlessly mourning (_for what, she wondered_,) while Sakura looked upon her with an undecipherable expression.

She sat there for what seemed like eternity, feeling as if she had never had a voice before, until Sakura whispered quietly, "They saved me."

Her eyes narrowed, tired and spent. She asked, "Who?"

"I don't know who they were," Sakura answered truthfully. "Two boys, I didn't know them. I... I'd never seen them before, but they saved me. They _saved _me, and they— oh, God,_ I don't know_, they just—"

Sakura stopped herself abruptly, rubbed her forehead, and sighed, "We should go. This really isn't the right place to tell you everything. Come on."

-:-:-:-:-

"They really did a number on this place, didn't they?" Sakura said to herself, surveying her home with embittered eyes. "Didn't really have time to notice when they were supposedly hauling me off to 'prison.'"

"I'm sorry," Hinata offered quietly, in the same soft tone that used to make Neji and Hanabi drop their frustrated moods and finally smile.

"It's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

Nodding, she steeled her nerves and asked the pink-haired NANO what had been long-since plaguing her mind, "Sakura-san, why are the scientologists after you?"

"What do you mean?" Sakura replied, unperturbed. "I'm a NANO, aren't I? I've already told you that."

"But that's not it, is it?" Hinata prodded, satisfied when Sakura finally stopped fiddling with a broken photo-frame.

She did not, however, turn her face towards Hinata when she replied, "Because I'm not supposed to be here, Hinata-san."

"Here?"

"Alive," Sakura clarified. "I'm not supposed to be _alive_, not _living_— not like this."

"I don't... I don't think I understand—"

"Of course you don't," Sakura snapped, and snapped in a way which made clear to Hinata that the present conversation was utterly unwilling on Sakura's part.

"Sakura-san, you promised me that you would tell me everything, that you wouldn't hide anything," Hinata reminded. "You promised, and you said you would never go back on it."

When Sakura looked up at her, startled, Hinata smiled and said, "Yes, I remember."

"I— I'm sorry," she apologized, green eyes looking cross at their bearer. "You're right. You're right, I did. I—"

"I won't ask you immediately, Sakura-san. You're injuries... they look serious. I'd feel much more comfortable if you patched them up first. If you want, I'd be glad to—"

"No. If you don't mind, I'd like to delay this as less as possible."

"A-are you sure?"

Nodding, Sakura began— slowly, as if recalling, "See, the scientologists didn't originally choose me as their... as their _test subject_. They didn't think I was strong enough to withstand invasion from foreign DNA, but my brother... my brother was," she chuckled bitterly, "he was 'the most interesting specimen' they'd ever seen— ever had the _pleasure _of seeing, the bastards.

"They took him in, tested him, turned him into things nobody wants to be turned into, and did the same thing they'd done to hundreds of others. And you know what he goes and does?" Sakura laughed, and for a moment, Hinata felt afraid. "You know what he does? He _dies. He dies in the middle of the experimentation, _and then the fuckers come to my doorstep, saying that my parents had sent them a defected product. _A defected product._

"They would sue us, they'd said; they'd sue us because they _could_— because half the people in this world do things just because they can. I wasn't that old, you know. Kazuki was eighteen— I was just fourteen. I didn't know how the world worked, but I knew that the mean-looking, nasty men in ugly coats would do what they said they would.

"I... I asked my parents to send me in Kazuki's place. I— of course, I didn't know about Kazuki's death, not _then_, but I could tell something was wrong. I could hear mom's crying, I could hear dad's shouting, I could see brother's cold, empty room, and I knew something was wrong. I wanted to go where brother was, so I asked them to send me there. They didn't, at first, but... the scientologists kept pestering them— _I _kept pestering them— until they gave in.

"To be honest, I don't know why they agreed to accept me. It didn't make any sense, not when they _knew _I had weak genes, when they _knew _I would die," she chuckled again, folding her arms behind her head, gazing at the ceiling, "but, ah, that's where the problem lay, you know: I _didn't _die. I should have, but I didn't, and I went against all their technology, their calculations, their logistics, and I went ahead and got them interested."

Sakura spread her arms wide, as if presenting herself mockingly. With smiling, trembling lips and forlorn eyes, she whispered, "And here I am now. Look at me, with a trashed home and about fifty names. How appealing, ne?"

Hinata's gaze was fixated on the floor, hands wrung together tightly behing her back, eyes holding unshed tears (_they wouldn't fall— they never did_.)

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "_I'm sorry_."

"Don't be," Sakura answered warmly, gesturing to herself. "I'm a woman of twenty-three, you know. Mature enough to handle the past and the present both," she smiled, "just like you."

Hinata smiled back, feeling warmth spreading through her when clear, blue eyes, straw-blonde hair, and an infectious smile flashed in a corner of her mind.

"You know, Hinata," Sakura said off-handedly, not really looking at the addressed woman. "I'm filthy. And, to tell the truth, in a place like this, we all have to be. We've all killed in the past, in more ways than one. We've all _been _killed, and what's worse is that we've been revived; again and again and again, filthier each time. Not you, not me, but us. _Us._ Do you understand what I'm babbling on about here?"

"Yes. I do."

Sakura didn't look at her, but she smiled nonetheless.

_(End of Arc I)_

-:-:-:-:-

_**Well, that was a short arc, wasn't it? ^_^' Ah, I bet you guys wanted the one Hinata found to be Sasuke, didn't you? I wouldn't be surprised, I did too xD But the plot must be followed. Yes -nods-**_

_**Mocks suck. I'll never say it enough times.**_

_**Song for today: Dozing Green, by Dir en grey (if you haven't listened to this yet, go do that right now. Never mind the story. Shoo.)**_

_**I would rant more (no, seriously, I would) but I've gotta go study now. Yeah. **_

_**With love,**_

_**Moonlight Gal.**_


	5. Arc II Chapter One

_**N.A.N.O.**_

_(Arc II)_

-:-:-:-:-

_"I'm filthy, Hinata. And, to tell the truth, in a place like this, we all have to be. We've all killed in the past, in more ways than one. We've all been killed, and what's worse is that we've been revived_—_ again and again and again, filthier each time."_

-:-:-:-:-

_Somewhere Out There,_

_55 D.M.S (Descent of the Monarchial System,)_

_You know, I feel so stupid writing a letter without the address. I know you'd scold me for it, Kazuki, because you were always a perfectionist_— _at least, as far as I can remember. To tell the truth, I don't really know what to say to a dead person; I bet you're getting everything you wished for in heaven anyway, so I can't really help you with much. I guess I'll just ask you to pray for mom and dad from up there (if they're still alive, because I don't really know) and just don't get on God's bad side or anything, okay? I can't believe I'm saying this to a dead guy, but take care of yourself. I really miss you._

_Loving you always,_

_Your sister, Sakura._

-:-:-:-:-

"Eh? What are you doing in the corner, Sakura-san?" Hinata inquired curiously, stepping into the newly-furnished (albeit furnished poorly) room with a tray carrying a cup of milk and two green, not-quite-ripe apples.

Sakura folded the crumpled letter carefully, sliding it into a nearby drawer with the utmost respect— something that, when coupled with the obvious adoration shining in her green eyes, quite baffled Hinata.

"Ah, I was writing a letter to someone, is all."

"Oh, I see," Hinata said softly, nodding with her usual consideration, before asking, with great reluctance and inner conflict, "To who, if you don't mind me asking?"

"To someone who's never going to read it, I guess," Sakura answered, lips stretching upwards in a smile free of much mirth. "You know, this is for my own gratification, more than anything else— makes me feel kind of selfish."

"I'm sure that's not it," Hinata protested firmly.

Sakura only hummed contemplatively, turning away from Hinata as the tray was set down, and it pained the midnight-haired woman to accept that Sakura's nonchalance equated to disbelief. It did not, however, surprise her to see the self-blame so clearly present in Sakura's eyes; after all, Hinata could easily recall the countless times when she herself had been subjected to regret and self-blame, the emotion seeming so utterly inexpugnable in those days.

It was probably why she found herself with so many reassuring words in her mind, but none on her lips.

(_It's okay. It's okay for us to give in to delusion every once in a while, into a delusion we craft ourselves. Because if we didn't, we would all_—)

"You— I remember you saying something about being... _saved_," Hinata inquired casually, biting into her apple. "From the NGI-facility, I mean. What... what did you mean? I mean, who—"

"I meant what I said," Sakura answered, gazing at Hinata with eyes shouting for something unspoken to be heard, but for the love of her, Hinata couldn't pinpoint _what_. "Two boys— and that's all I could gather about them. I saw them, I think, but... without really _seeing _them. There was panic all around, and it was difficult to gather my wits enough to worry about anything but where I was and— and whether I was going to be _anywhere _tomorrow, you know?"

Hinata nodded with understanding, before saying, "They were the ones causing the explosions, then?"

"Well, probably. I mean, who else could it be?"

"Even if that's true, I still don't understand why they would be doing something like this. It doesn't make any sense—"

"Doesn't it? Don't you remember the explosion at Manaiya, Hinata?" Sakura defended. "Out of those 500 test subjects, they freed_,_ what, 300 of them? That speaks for itself— they're fighting for liberation, if freeing 300 NANOs—"

"And killing 200? Doesn't that speak for itself too?" Hinata objected softly.

Eyes flashing, Sakura replied quietly, "They didn't _kill _anyone, Hinata. We have to give something to get something. If you've been alive for twenty-three years, that's something you should already know."

"So it's simply the fault of those 200, because they were unlucky enough to have been caught in the crossfire?"

"It wasn't _anyone's _fault—"

"I don't approve," Hinata said firmly. "I don't think I can _ever _approve, Sakura-san. It's not just those 200 NANOs, it's those sixty-some scientologists, and all those innocent people who were caught in an explosion they had nothing to do with."

"The _scientologists_?" Sakura said incredulously, teeth clenching. "The scientologists are the _ones at fault here, _Hinata. It's _their _fault we're here, living in alleyways, wearing contacts, and changing names every week! And the people— the _civilians_— they despise us; hell, they would wish us all dead if given the chance, if they don't already—"

"That may be so, but that doesn't give anyone the right to—"

"Wait," Sakura interrupted suddenly, hand on her temple and eyes closed in exhaustion. "Wait. Let's... let's stop here. I don't want to to argue about this, okay?"

Hinata paused, soaking in the sight of a tired smile and eyes speaking of resignation, before she nodded and averted her eyes.

"I think I'll be stepping out for a bit," she informed quietly, letting loose a small, genuine smile as a means of wordlessly reassuring to her companion. "Enjoy the food, okay?"

"Be back soon," she heard Sakura murmur, as she pulled the curtain close behind her.

-:-:-:-:-

_For some reason, I feel strangely nostalgic._

Hands wrung together behind her back, eyes modestly lowered to the ground, Hinata Hyuuga strolled past Sarutobi Cafe, recollecting the various events events somehow related to the dainty shop— some of which, she recalled with a wince, were not quite so pleasant. Her first meeting with Sakura, however, was a rather bittersweet turning point, and Hinata knew she wouldn't exchange it for anything the world could offer her anymore.

After much inner-conflict and self-contradicting contemplation, she gingerly pushed open the transparent door with a hesitant hand, peeking inside.

Nearly all the tables were occupied, Hinata noticed with surprise— she could swear the cafe used to be almost completely vacant during her rare visits. The pleasantly familiar scent of freshly-baked pasteries and bittersweet coffee wafted through the shop, but the dull buzz of chatter almost made Hinata turn on her heel and walk right back out. _Something_, however, caused her footsteps to pause. Scenes of Natsue's silent, subdued anger flashed in Hinata's mind; when they'd first heard news of the Manaiya explosion, heard of the weak cover-ups of the scientologists— that anger was the first hint of _Sakura _Hinata had seen in a woman she had then known as Natsue Kinimoto, and it was a rather memorable occasion, however short and fleeting it may have been.

The scenes playing in her mind caused her hidden lilac eyes to shift towards the table situated at the left corner of the shop, farthest from the door; now that Hinata thought about it, she had always ended up sitting at that particular table, chewing on an inexpensive croissant.

_Funny how a piece of wood can carry memories like that, _Hinata thought, an unbidden smile creeping onto her lips.

Although discouraged by the presence of another sitting at the her— _her? Since when was it hers?_— table, a quick glance around the cafe told Hinata that waiting for an empty table would be fruitless. A light touch to ensure that her contacts were in place, and Hinata advanced forward with slightly reluctant footsteps.

"Excuse me? Is this seat occupied, sir?" Hinata asked politely, and ignored the faint, barely-noticeable pang of familiarity at the back of her mind when the man looked up with sharp, knowing coal-coloured eyes, like the blackest of anthracite (_does anthracite gleam like that?_ Hinata wondered abstractedly.)

He regarded her wordlessly, and even when the gaze lasted for hardly more than a scarce second— it was barely a glance, really— Hinata had to resist the urge to curl into herself, merely from the strange, piercing sting of his eyes.

(_Maybe I shouldn't have called him 'sir'? He doesn't look a day over twenty-five, after all._)

When he lowered his eyes in a clear dismissal, Hinata didn't know whether to feel affronted or purely relieved. She decided to settle for the latter, and hoped that she wasn't deluding herself when she took his dismissal as permission. She pulled out a chair and sat guardedly, relieved to see that his gaze didn't rise to her again. Honestly, she thought with a light frown, this nameless man made her feel as if Hinata would have to be on her toes for as long as she was around him.

Gradually, though, she found herself relaxing. She forgot about the man's presence, just as he had forgotten about hers long before. She, biting into her usual croissant and reminiscing about past events, and he, holding his cup of coffee in one pale hand, and turning the page of his book with another, the two indulged themselves in their private thoughts, enveloped by a silence neither awkward nor companionable.

An hour passed in silence, until Hinata sneaked a glance at the cafe's wallclock and stood up. Off-handedly, she gave the man a parting bow (which he didn't bother to acknowledge, let alone _return_) and scurried away without a backward glance.

And so went by the first meeting.

-:-:-:-:-

"What's wrong?"

Sakura's head jerked up in surprise, eyes wide and lips parted.

"H-huh? Wh—"

"Please don't say 'nothing,' Sakura-san," Hinata pleaded, casting a disapproving eye over the dark circles under Sakura's eyes and her unhealthily pale skin. She had missed neither the half-eaten lunch tossed in the corner of the room, nor the dirt and dust on the bedsheets, seeming as if it had accumulated over days.

"I— really, I don't—" Sakura began, a shaky smile that did nothing to convince Hinata wavering on her lips. She paused, eyed the stubborn tightening of the former Hyuuga's lips, and sighed, "There's no getting past you, is there?"

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Let's not delay the inevitable, Sakura-san."

"Ah, I wonder how many people you must have fooled with that innocent face of yours already," Sakura murmured to herself in amusement.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, nothing. To tell you the truth, I— well, it's not really anything worth a fuss, you know, I just... I suppose thinking that their motives are purely selfless _is _a bit naive, isn't it? So I just... wondered what it would've been like if— if I was in their place."

"The... the boys who—"

"Yeah. Them."

A comfortable silence settled over the two, broken only by the rustle of the worn-out carpet, as Hinata seated herself next to Sakura and placed a tentative hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Is that really all, Sakura-san?"

Seconds ticked by in silence, and soon, Hinata gave up on the futile hope of receiving an answer. Her concerned eyes never strayed from the sight of Sakura staring off into space, but the pink-haired NANO herself didn't once turn her head to meet Hinata's gaze.

Just as Hinata sighed, and the hand on Sakura's shoulder lifted, Sakura whispered, "I want to thank them."

Hinata's determination faltered slightly, and she stammered, "What? I don't— you—"

"I never want to go back to that hellhole, Hinata. I never want to s_ee _it again, ever, _ever_— I'd rather _die _than go there again. I— when they took me back there, I swear, I was going to _kill myself. _I'd do anything— hell, I'd stab myself with a fucking _syringe _or something, but I didn't want to see those— those," she clutched at her bangs, trembling faintly, "those suffocating, white walls, and that contant beeping, and those starched, white coats, and— and _all of it,_ Hinata."

She sighed, regaining her composure shortly before she continued, "I'm just grateful, Hinata. I want to... I want to meet them, just _once _even_, _just to tell them how thankful I am; not just for saving me from that fear, but for preventing the other NANOs from feeling that fear, too. I just want to thank them, Hinata. That's all I want to do— just once is enough."

"I..." _I don't really know what to say, Sakura-san, I_—

"It's okay if you don't want to help me; It's okay if you just understand, Hinata. Can you— I mean—"

"I want to help you," Hinata whispered (more on a whim than anything else, she shamefully admitted.) "I'd... I think I'd like to help you, Sakura-san."

"I thought you— didn't you hate them? Didn't you hate what they were doing?"

"I dislike it, yes, and I disapprove of it entirely," Hinata clarified with a frown, "but I don't think it's that easy to hate someone. I _still _don't approve of it, and like I said before, I don't think I ever will. However," she smiled, a pretty blush staining her cheeks, "you're important to me, Sakura-san, and I— I don't think I would ever forgive myself if I let a friend— my _only _friend— walk into something this dangerous without having someone to support them. I'll help you, because I _want _to help you, and that's all, s-so—"

Incoming words muffled by Sakura's shoulder, Hinata sheepishly patted her friend's back when she was suddenly and unexpectedly embraced, Sakura's arms just about _squeezing _the life out of her, her continuous '_thank you_'s muffled by Hinata neck, and— and was it her, or did Hinata's overcoat feel somewhat dampened?

_Ah, well, I think we'll save the details for later, _she thought, smiling fondly against tresses the colour of ripe cherry-blossoms.

-:-:-:-:-

A week later, when Hinata found herself stumbling inside Sarutobi cafe, half-aware and half-lost in the haze of slumber, she almost turned tail and _ran like there was no tomorrow_. She stopped herself, of course, and chose to stand by the door, rigid and tense, and almost raised a hand to rub her eyes when she saw the same obsidian-eyed man sitting at _her _table again— before she remembered that she was wearing her honey-brown contacts.

The cafe was full again, and, if not for the familar scent of pasteries and the cream-coloured wallpaper, Hinata would've honestly believed that, somewhere along the way here, she'd taken a wrong turn and ended up in an unfamiliar place.

_My God, what kind of advertisements did they use while I was gone?_

"Uh, pardon me," Hinata timidly said, pulling out a chair. "I'll be sitting here again, if you don't mind, s—"

_No. No 'sir's._

Timidly, she sat across from the man, shoulders tense and eyes lowered, and vaguely, she noticed that the book in his hand was a different one from the previous day. He seemed engrossed in it, and Hinata took the opportunity to observe him with as much subtlety as she could manage.

_No, definitely not a day over twenty-five, _she thought, glancing at his pale, unblemished skin and long, sweeping eyelashes. His raven hair was pulled into a rather peculiar hairstyle, in Hinata's opinion, with stray strands hanging limply in front of his eyes. Nonetheless, the man was, in a nutshell, beautiful, and even though Hinata felt rather embarrassed to be calling a grown man something she'd believed only a fair woman should be called, his sculpted features really seemed as if they would settle for nothing less— even though the man himself would probably be offended by the word.

"You need something?"

Thinking, '_Ah, not nearly subtle enough,_' Hinata barely had enough to time to— _admire? Blush at? Ponder upon?_— the man's low voice, smooth as velvet, when his gaze rose from the pages of his precious book to her wide-open irises.

"E-excuse me?" _Is there a reason you're asking me that all of a sudden?_

"Did you need something?" he repeated, slightly more force in his voice. _You shouldn't need to ask._

Oh, yes, she shouldn't, but Hinata wouldn't dare admit it.

Quietly, she shook her head, inwardly berating herself— perhaps for her lack of discretion, perhaps for feeling a small part of herself reverting back into the shy teenager she remembered being years ago, or perhaps for feeling insulted when _she _was the one at fault. Admittedly, though, Hinata _was _slightly astounded— the man had managed to insult her, not through words, not even through subtle gestures, but merely through a half-hearted glance. It was something only Neji had managed to do (when they were but mere children, of course. Nowadays, Neji would do nothing less than break the fingers of anyone foolish enough to point them at her.)

The gesture was not at all pleasant, but it was a reminder of family, and so it was silently welcomed.

Silence spread over the two strangers again. Hinata didn't dare raise her eyes to meet the man's again, lest she be subjected to any more embarrassment. She knew nothing about this stoic, odd stranger, possessing eyes that seemed as if they could effortlessly shoot down the noblest of men, and neither did she _want _to know— the less suspicious figures, the better. And so, the Hyuuga thought it best to remain silent, sip at her black coffee, and pretend that she wasn't uncomfortable with his presence in the slightest.

Twenty-five minutes later, when Hinata Hyuuga stood up, bowing, and turned away from him with no intentions of looking back, she was utterly glad that the man couldn't see her eyes widening like dinner plates, when he casually said, with the uttermost indifference, "You should probably get better contacts, miss."

And even when his voice was monotonous, Hinata, with her burning cheeks, couldn't pretend to ignore how the 'miss' was drawled out with such subtle sarcasm.

-:-:-:-:-

The third time, Hinata didn't bother to ask for his permission when she pulled out a seat and sat down, all polite movements and modest words.

For once, she decided to give herself a treat, ordering an orange scone instead of a plain croissant, and eyed the cherry pastery on the other side of the table with longing. She could count how many of those she'd eaten throughout her twenty-three years on five fingers—

"If you're going to eye a stranger's food, at least do it with your own eyes, miss."

Hinata found herself wanting to flinch at the mocking, would-be term of courtesy at the end.

"I'm afraid that has little to do with you, sir," she answered.

"It's _my _food you're eyeing," he replied— even though both of them were aware that the true topic of discussion was most definitely _not _the obsidian-eyed man's cherry pastery.

"I apologize, then," Hinata said quietly, almost wanting to bite her tongue for the unneeded apology. He said nothing in response.

Thirty idle minutes passed, and for once, Hinata wasn't the one who stood up to leave first. The man gathered his jacket, hanging it over his elbow, and turned his back to her with the supposedly-casual words, "I won't tell anyone."

_"I won't tell anyone."_

She didn't think it should have meant that much to her.

-:-:-:-:-

The fourth time, Hinata idly wondered— for the tenth or eleventh time, she assumed— why in the world she'd actually bothered to waste her money on new contacts. _Chocolate-brown is more subtle than honey-brown, _she tried to convince herself futilely, and ignored the anonymous man's raised eyebrow when she hastily sat down across from him.

"What exactly are you ashamed of?"

She had to admit; the question caught her off-guard (something that rarely happened these days,) so much so that Hinata had to refrain from choking on her coffee in surprise.

"It's really— _really _none of your concern—"

"There's no point in removing old contacts to wear new ones the next day," he said dryly.

"Th-they're more subtle—" she half-said, half-squeaked.

"Contacts are contacts, miss."

"Please don't call me that," she protested, gazing down at the ripples in her coffee cup.

"It's merely a term of courtesy," he replied, and by God, Hinata simply couldn't detect the slightest hint of a taunt in his tone, but somehow, she _knew_, and she wasn't particularly pleased. "You would think a lady would be flattered."

"I'm sorry, but I am most definitely not flattered," Hinata indignantly replied— wishing only for her tone to have matched the nature of her words in terms of confidence, in terms of firmness.

"I apologize, then," he said impassively, shifting his attention back to his own half-full cup of coffee.

And when the lavender-eyed woman departed, she was left wondering (at the back of her mind) why she didn't feel any vague twinges of offense at his lack of response towards her parting bow, as was the norm. When the thought crossed her mind that they were perhaps settling into an odd sort of routine without even knowing one another's name, she couldn't restrain the small, amused smile that surfaced on her lips.

-:-:-:-:-

The fifth time arrived sooner than Hinata had cared to anticipate. True to her suspicions, they _had _settled into a routine; one that was neither terribly fluctuating, nor terribly monotonous. They'd gotten used to one another, Hinata realised, and she could feel her initial suspicion ebbing away bit by bit— she had mixed feelings about the realisation, truthfully.

Idle chit-chat between them was rare, but not entirely non-existent. Here and there, she put in a word or two about the current war situation, or mumble away a passing thought to him, and he would either nod in agreement, or offer a few words of contradiction.

Before she'd noticed, the sixth meeting had already passed, followed by the seventh, the eighth, the ninth— so on and so forth. She dared to think that she might have perhaps been considered something akin to an _acquaintance_ by the man (whose name she s_till_ did not know— because company didn't need a name, after all.)

It was somewhat hypocritical, she admitted to herself with guilt; was it justifiable to want to be considered a trustworthy acquaintance, when she herself didn't fully trust the other? It was unfair, but it was unavoidable.

They lived in different worlds, after all.

At least, she'd thought so, before their interactions resulted in Hinata noticing things she hadn't noticed before, things that were barely even noticeable, actually. Often, Hinata asked herself _why _she was even paying any attention to them, but some instinctual feeling within her called on her to do so, and, having relied upon said instincts for years, it wasn't in her power to refuse.

The first thing she'd noticed: his shoulders tensed ever-so-slightly whenever a word or two pertaining to the recent explosions escaped her lips. Initially, she'd simply dismissed it as the discomfort of a peace-loving person when faced by the notion of brutality and war. Only later did it occur to her, that he seemed to be a person with quite the stomach for blood, as far as she could sum up. Of course, appearances _could _be deceiving— but experience had taught the Hyuuga not to believe in coincidences and the conveniences they often carried along.

The second thing: at times, when she happened to arrive earlier than him, she'd often noticed his gaze sweeping over the several customers, the staff, the civilians passing by behind him— he even made sure to sneak a glance whenever someone stepped out into the front of the shop through the backdoor. He did so without anything more than a bare tilt of his head, without ever halting his footsteps. It was strange and uncommon, especially since the act reminded Hinata of what _she _often found herself doing automatically in a foreign place.

The third, and probably the most unsettling fact: his eyes were like an abyss. Yes, she'd known from the start. Yes, she wasn't entirely surprised. Yes, she had somewhat expected it— but she hadn't expected the other realisations that came _with _it. Yes, dark-grey was normal. Arsenic grey was normal. Rich brown was normal.

Pure, untainted, pupil-less black, however, _was not normal._

Which, consequently— _ultimately_— led to Hinata murmuring, after nearly a fortnight of the man's bittersweet company, "Rather than asking other people to change their contacts, I really think you should think about getting your own, sir."

Her keen eyes barely had enough time to notice the fractional widening of his eyes, before he stood up, faster than lightening, with concealed alarm and clenched teeth. Something akin to (but not quite) frustration and trepidation radiating off him in waves, he gathered his jacket into his arms with a surprisingly-firm grip.

(_Because had she been in this situation, Hinata knew her fingers would have been trembling._)

"At least let me know your name," she murmured, tendrils of resignation and a familiar feeling of sadness clenching around her heart.

She wasn't surprised when, instead of replying, he pushed his chair back underneath the table with more force than necessary. She wasn't suprised when the loud clatter of wood clashing against wood harshly broke the silence she had come to appreciate, but she involuntarily flinched anyway.

He walked out. She didn't stop him. She wouldn't dare.

-:-:-:-:-

_"When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."_

_-_Friedrich Nietzsche

-:-:-:-:-

**I know. I'm late. **_**Horribly **_**late, and there's still bad news to come: no more updates till after the 24th of May (O'level exams. Yeah, I know.)**

_**I AM EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY SORRY I HAVEN'T BEEN REPLYING TO YOUR REVIEWS -bows repeatedly- I really, really, REALLY am D= but you won't believe how hectic it's been. It's been hard enough to complete another chapter, and I promise I'll reply to everything once my exams are done and over with. Hell, I'll write PAGES if I have to.**_

**Thank you for how nice and awesome you guys have been uptil now, and I really hope to make it up to you soon. Please don't forget me xD**

**Song of inspiration: Rain by SID (FMA Brotherhood FTW xD)**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Moonlight Gal.**


	6. Arc II Chapter Two

_**N.A.N.O.**_

_(Arc II)_

-:-:-:-:-

_"I'm filthy, Hinata. And, to tell the truth, in a place like this, we all have to be. We've all killed in the past, in more ways than one. We've all been killed, and what's worse is that we've been revived_—_ again and again and again, filthier each time."_

-:-:-:-:-

_Western District of Kouyan, _

_City of Baele, Seienia,_

_55 D.M.S (Descent of the Monarchial System,) _

_Hi, Kakashi-sensei, it's me again. I haven't contacted you for a few months, so I thought I'd write you a couple of lines, just to, you know, let you know I'm still alive and kicking. I was wondering if you'd gotten hold of any recent news about my parents; I'm hoping they're still fine. Anyway, just to let you know, I'm doing a lot better now than the last time you heard from me_— _I'd even go as far as to say that things are finally moving uphill. I know I've said it enough times, but thanks for everything, sensei. If you get wind of any news about Mom and Dad, be sure to tell me, okay?_

_Sincerely,_

_Your former student._

-:-:-:-:-

"Posted?" Hinata Hyuuga asked, holding a steaming cup of tea in her slender hands. She smiled at Sakura in silent encouragement, as the latter pushed aside the tattered faux-curtain of their shared dwelling.

"Posted," Sakura confirmed, aiming a thumbs-up and a smile laced with ever-present exhaustion at Hinata. "It's going all the way to Kouyan, though, so it'll probably take a couple of days before it reaches him."

"Well, it's snail-mail, after all— slow, but safe," Hinata replied quietly, an inviting, comforting softness ringing within the confines of her voice. "Sit down, won't you? Do you want me to brew some tea for you too? You look like you need it."

"No, no. Nothing. Just... I'll just lay down for a while," was the strained response. As the pink-haired woman stretched her arms with a tired groan and collapsed on the impromptu bed of piled sheets, Hinata frowned disapprovingly. Patiently, she placed the half-full cup on the floor and, with concern etched on her features, turned to her companion.

"Sakura-san, don't you think you're searching a bit too hard for those boys?" she inquired softly. "I have no doubt that you'll find them eventually, but Seienia isn't a small country. Looking left and right and simply overworking yourself isn't going to help."

"Then what do you suggest I _do_?" Sakura groaned, and Hinata was relieved to note that her voice was free of any malice or sarcasm. "I have _no idea _where I'm supposed to look, Hinata. I mean, honestly, where am I supposed to find two guys who blow up NGI-facilities?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Uh, no. Not really—"

"We'll just have to wait for the next explosion, won't we?" Hinata answered, plopping her chin on her palm. "Because, to be truthful, I don't think we'll ever be able to find them otherwise."

Sakura hummed briefly in contemplation, tapping her fingers against the floor as emerald eyes steadily lost their previous look of resignation. She nibbled on her lower lip, and eventually sighed, "I guess that's it, then. That's all we can do."

"Don't worry yourself over it. We're bound to find them eventually," Hinata reassured in her usual tone of voice, placating Sakura's unspoken doubts and fears. She ignored the guilty pinpricks of her conscience and, with much effort, stopped her smile from faltering. Admittedly, failing to inform Sakura about the enigmatic stranger (or something of an acquaintance, as she'd taken to calling him) in Sarutobi Cafe wasn't the most honest move on her part, especially since he was most likely an undiscovered NANO-in-hiding.

On the other hand, it would mean adding something else to unnecessarily ponder upon to Sakura's already-jumbled thoughts. The woman was caught in a web of mysteries and incomprehensible happenings as it was; no need to heap any more onto the growing pile.

Hinata confessed that a part of her _did,_ in fact, wish to see the man again, if only to tie the loose ends he'd left in wake of his departure. And yet, a larger part of her— the part ruled by logic and sensibility, honed to perfection during the past few years— insisted that his absence was for the best, lest his untimely return cause any discord.

"Hey," Sakura's voice startled Hinata out of her musings. "You haven't been to Sarutobi Cafe for a while, have you? I remember you used to go there everyday. What's up?"

"Ah, that," Hinata responded, averting her eyes and resisting the urge to wring her hands together. "Well, I just... don't feel like it lately. Maybe I'm more tensed about this than I _should _be, but," she shrugged lightly, wearing a smile that spoke of resignation, "you know how it goes, Sakura-san."

"Don't be like that," Sakura said softly, sitting up and patting Hinata's shoulder. "You know what? I kind of feel like going there. How about it? Let's go tomorrow, okay? My treat."

"I don't— Sakura-san, I _couldn't_—"

Sakura slapped her back with more force than intended, and Hinata held back the urge to wince. With a playful grin, she persuaded, "C'mon now, we all need a break every now and then, right? Where's the harm in that?"

"I... I suppose it wouldn't hurt," Hinata reluctantly agreed. "For old times' sake, if nothing else."

Sakura nodded decisively, shooting one last, thankful smile at the Hyuuga before pulling the covers over her head, eyes fluttering shut. She slipped into deep, much-needed slumber, bracing herself for the manifestation of her worries in unyielding dreams, with the knowledge that her companion would calm her nerves with a soothing voice, if needed.

-:-:-:-:-

"Ah," Sakura sighed in bliss, shoulders relaxing. "I haven't tasted this in _ages_; I'd completely forgotten how heavenly it was."

Hinata nodded in concurrence, quietly sipping her missed black coffee and savouring each taste like a man offered water in the middle of a desert. The cafe was, as per the usual routine, full and utterly congested, but Hinata was half-relieved and half-disappointed to note that there was no sign of the one she'd been avoiding. Things seemed so stubbornly unchanging— the same appealing scents, the same smiles from the same employees, the same conversational murmurs, the same atmosphere— that it was all too easy for Hinata to dismiss those short, fourteen days as something her lonely subconscious might have conjured up (although, of course, she knew it hadn't done anything of the sort— but what was a little indulgence in delusion every now and then?)

"Unbelievable, how it's become so popular lately," Sakura murmured, eyes wide with wonder at the occupied tables. "I could swear it was practically _deserted _when I came here last."

"I was surprised too," Hinata agreed, smiling nostalgically. "It felt so unreal; still does, actually."

"I hear you."

"I wonder if—"

The sound of a sharp, alerting whistle abruptly interrupted their hushed chatter. Alarmed, the two turned their heads towards the source of the noise with tense shoulders and guarded eyes, feet already prepared to flee at the slightest sign of trouble. Their eyes were greeted by the sight of who Hinata presumed was the shop owner, garbed in a chef's signature apron, his lips tightened in both evident worry and alarm.

From behind the counter, he bellowed, "Ladies and gentleman, I'll have to ask you to evacuate the shop immediately! There's been another explosion about a kilometre from here, and if you want to escape unharmed, I suggest you empty the shop _right now_. _We are oficially closed_ _for today_."

Shouts and curses erupted in the background, employees scrambling about and customers scurrying away in a panic. And when Sakura turned to her with imploring eyes, Hinata answered the unasked question with ease, "We can make it in ten minutes if we run."

A determined nod, a deep inhale, and they were off.

-:-:-:-:-

The scene was more than they'd been prepared for, Hinata figured with an involuntary wince.

Scattered debris, obscuring smoke, the remains of high-rise buildings, chipped away brick by brick; it would have been tolerable, had it not been accompanied by bloodied bodies, littered carcasses, and ear-piercing shrieks and wails — it made for a grosteque picture, the two of them registered with morbid fascination. The most recent explosion was decidedly worse than usual, it seemed.

A fierce tug on the sleeve of her overcoat jolted Hinata out of her thoughts. Sakura addressed her with pursed lips and alarmed eyes, "We have to hurry. We have to find them before—"

A sharp intake of breath — Sakura's urgent, unfinished words had served to remind Hinata _why _they were where they were. There weren't, after all, many reasons for which she would allow herself to step foot within the suffocating boundaries of an NGI-facility. Its walls had always evoked a strange feeling of finality in her (as they did in all NANOs, Hinata suspected,) and sometimes, she still wondered from _where _she had mustered up the strength to release herself from that self-inflicted blackhole.

"Let's go, let's _go_," Sakura urged, repeatedly shooting fearful, wary looks over her shoulder, and Hinata felt a pang of sympathy for the woman (she was still a girl, perhaps, if her justifiable paranoia was anything to judge by.)

"You're absolutely sure that," Hinata whispered breathlessly, squinting her eyes to see through the cloud of dust, "that there were just two of them?"

Sakura grunted, nodding and shielding her narrowed eyes. Hinata gripped her companion's upper-arm, grabbing her attention in the process, and murmured doubtfully, "We... how do we get in? W-we can't..." Hinata trailed off with a cough, certain of their unavoidable capture, should they waltz in through the front door of a painfully familiar NGI-facility.

When Sakura turned to face her, Hinata was dreafully certain that her narrowed eyes were not simply the product of smoke and dust. Her lips parted once, before clamping shut again. The rosette snatched her wrist and tugged her forward, palpable fear rolling off her in waves — but not for the same reasons as before. When she spoke, Hinata could barely catch the mumbled answer that escaped her lips, "The back; we can break in through the back of the building."

"The — is there... a back door or...?"

"No, no. The _wall_, Hinata, we break in through the _wall_."

"Wh-_what_?" Hinata exclaimed. If her wrist hadn't been tugged forward insistently, she knew she would have halted in her tracks. "Sakura-san, that's — that's _insane_! We can't—!"

"_I _can," Sakura reassured, turning the corner with quick, agile footsteps. Over her left shoulder, she shot Hinata a mockery of a smile, and with her eyes growing cold _(beneath the cold lay irony, beneath the irony, self-loathing, and beneath that, misery)_, she said, "I'm a NANO, Hinata."

Hinata sealed her lips shut and quietly let her partner lead.

-:-:-:-:-

"Oh, God," Sakura wheezed, shuddering as she stepped through the (forced) entrance of the laboratory. "The smell — oh, _God, the smell _—"

Hinata tightly pressed a hand against her nose to shield her sensitive senses from the pungent smell assaulting them. It was rather familiar, actually; the odour of a well-maintained and well-used laboratory would never be unidentifiable to them, and it was precisely _because _it was familiar that it was so unbearable.

"Do you think," Hinata choked out, "do you think they're gone?"

"No," Sakura answered after an affordable moment of contemplation. "They're still here. They've _got _to be — you hear the whirring noises? Some of the NANOs are still here, still alive; they can't just _leave _the live ones here, can they? They _won't_."

It was a guess, more or less, and although Hinata wanted nothing more than to be able to believe in Sakura's conviction, years of uncertainty naturally led her to be doubtful. Constant insecurity had eventually taught her to believe in herself, but never, she was afraid to admit, in others.

"Wait, Sakura-san," she began hesitantly, bracing herself for Sakura's assured disappointment. "Listen, maybe we shouldn't —"

"Not there, _not there, dammit_! Hey! Wait, you — dude, I'm _talking to you_!"

Startled, the two gasped and exchanged desperate, alarmed glances. They instinctively huddled together, readying themselves to fight or flee. The echo of the masculine voice had reached them from a nearby corner of the laboratory, but two people would be relatively difficult to spot in such a chaotic, frantic atmosphere. The man — whoever it was — wasn't addressing them, they thankfully realized with guarded relief.

The first thought at the fore-front of Hinata's mind was the possibility of him being a scientologist. Subsequently, though, she had to wonder what a surviving scientologist would be doing at the back of the building, instead of at the actual exit on the opposite side. It was only when she spied the ecstatic glint of realization dawning in Sakura's apple-green irises, that she opened her mind (albeit reluctantly) to the possibilty of Sakura's previous guess turning out to be accurate.

"He... he couldn't..."

"He is," Sakura interrupted her speculation. "He _is_."

She was getting ready to work up another cautious protest or two, when a silhouette of a man emerged from the obscured corner. Hinata could just barely make out blonde hair and a flash of orange, but she could, at the very least, discern how frantic his movements — his erratic breathing and wildly gesturing hands — were.

"That's him. That's _definitely _one of them."

"Then," she questioned slowly, "where's the—"

But Sakura was already stepping forward, planning to make her presence known, before Hinata could clutch onto her arm to stop her, to _warn _her.

"Excuse me!" Sakura called out to him, quickening her footsteps when she sighted his shoulders tensing.

"Who the hell—" Hinata heard him mutter to himself (a more subdued tone than before, she noticed, but not by much.) "Heh, they don't usually _talk _when we free them, do they...?"

Obvious suspicion was seeping into his voice, but before it could take effect, Sakura interrupted his musings with a shockingly honest introduction, "Excuse me, are you —" she paused, shook her head, and began again, "I — you see, I'm one of the NANOs you —"

"NANO? You're one of the NANOs?" he jolted upright immediately, suspicion and mistrust instantly fading from his clear, blue eyes. The man (or _boy_, really) took a hold of Sakura's arm and ushered her towards what Hinata presumed was another forcefully-made exit, not unlike their own. In a whine she would have perhaps found endearing (had she the time), he complained, "Jesus, you guys just never _listen,_ huh? I've been _screaming _for you guys to _get the hell out already, _but _no,_ nobody fucking _listens_ —"

"Naruto!" another voice, deeper and silkier than the blonde man's (and Hinata coudn't help the nagging feeling that she'd —) barked from afar, "What's taking you so _fucking long?_"

"Well, _excuse me,_ your fucking Highness!" 'Naruto' shouted over his shoulder, frustration evident on his sharp features — which _were _a a bit odd, if Hinata paid some attention to them. "It's not _my _fault these guys just — just _zoom _to the lab entrance instead of going where I _tell _them to! Hell, maybe they'll learn if they get a couple of eggs thrown at 'em—"

"Can't you do _anything _right, dobe?"

"Well, maybe if you'd, I don't know, _help me,_ than maybe we'd actually get some fucking _work _done—!"

"If I _help _you," was the sardonic response, "who do you think's going to disable the circuitry, idiot—"

In their peripheral vision, Hinata and Sakura caught sight of another shadow briskly walking towards the three of them. If the well-meaning (Hinata supposed they were, at least) insults being passed back and forth between the two men were anything to judge by, she assumed that this man would be the 'partner' Sakura had been talking of, and if that were true, then they didn't have anything to be wary of. Still, in spite of the trusting smile that spread over Sakura's lips, Hinata refused to let her shoulders relax just yet.

The closer he came, Hinata knew, the clearer the silhouettes of two unfamiliar strangers would become. It was really no wonder that the man's unfaltering footsteps finally wavered when he was mere feet away from them, but the distance wasn't enough to prevent her eyes from catching a flash of ebony that intensified the itch at the back of her mind. Her eyebrows furrowed, and finally, when the nagging feeling erupted into realization and trepidation and intense curiosity all at once, it was _she _who stepped forward first, not Sakura.

Her feet moved forward of their own accord, but it was Sakura's voice that rose above the sudden tension encompassing the room, "E-excuse me, I—"

"You," he interrupted, eyes incredulously trained on Hinata — if there lingered any doubts in her mind about their familiarity, they were promptly erased by the penetrative sting ever-present in his eyes. "_Why_ are you here?"

"I—"

"We — we're NANOs!" Sakura exclaimed. "We — I'm one of the NANOs you freed at the Scrimdar facility, s-so—"

"Why are you _here,_ then?" the second of the two men demanded. "You're only causing trouble for rest of us by coming back to a place like this."

"B-but," Sakura faltered. "I only wanted... I mean, I just wanted to be able to—"

"Don't be so hard on her, Sasuke," Naruto reprimanded, flashing them a grin that looked somewhat _fatigued_; Sasuke's words were bound to be true, it seemed. "She just wanted to thank us! Right?"

Sakura nodded, although Sasuke's inconsiderate words seemed to have successfully planted a seed of guilt in the corner of her mind, and Hinata could see the doubt laid bare in her eyes.

"Yeah, well, uh," Naruto hastily conversed, shooting glances over his shoulder much like Sakura had been doing mere minutes ago. "I would, you know, _say _something — introductions and all that — but we have a little problem here, see, so—"

"Maybe we can help?" Hinata found herself offering timidly. "We're NANOs, too, after all."

"No," Sasuke firmly refused, his tone leaving no room for protest. "You two are going to get out of here, _now._ Understand?" He aimed a quick, piercing glare at Hinata, which she decided meant either, 'I don't trust you,' or, 'We'll settle this later.'

"But we—"

"Listen, guys," Naruto interrupted. "We should _really_ get going, before the—"

"The Crime-Preventative organizations won't be getting here for a while, Naruto."

"You never know!" Naruto hissed, looking increasingly worried as the seconds ticked by. "I'm telling you, those guys are _everywhere_, and besides just them—"

"Even if the organizations get here before expected," Sasuke explained, struggling to maintain his composure in face of his friend's understandable paranoia, "there are heaps of wounded people outside; they're going to tend to _them_ first. We'll be safe as long as—"

The click of a gun — and they froze.

_They can't be _— _are they already here?_

Hinata's breath hitched, and her panic-stricken eyes darted to find Sakura's. Unsurprisingly, she found them wide-open with helplessness, uncontrollable fright, inexpugnable anxiety, and the Hyuuga was struck with the horrifying reality of the situation, along with which came the urge to seek and provide the little comfort she could to her friend. However, a step out of line, she knew, wouldn't be in their best interests. Powerlessness overwhelmed her, and in a haze of desperation, she chanced a glance at Naruto and Sasuke.

"Well, shit," Naruto whispered fiercely, features contorting into a wince. "I told you, I _told _you—"

"Shut up," Sasuke berated in a venomous hiss of his own.

"No, no, _you _shut up. _Now _the bastards are going to haul us off to who-knows-where, and it'll all be _your _fault—"

"Sorry to disappoint you," a drawl sounded — distinctly feminine, Hinata was surprised to note, "but the bastards won't be getting here for a while."

Hinata didn't allow herself to slacken, and neither, she noticed warily, did Sasuke and Naruto. If anything, Naruto's flinch worsened all the more, and Sasuke himself seemed unable to suppress a slight twitch of his own. The anonymous woman _sounded _mature, somewhere around thirty, perhaps, and Hinata couldn't help but wonder if Naruto and Sasuke were somehow acquainted (if that was even the right word to use) with her — should their reactions to her arrival be any indication.

"Damn it all," Naruto mumbled under his breath. "I would've liked the Crime-Preventative organizations better."

"You're still the same as ever, brat," the woman taunted, her eyes trained on Sasuke with something akin to animosity and remembrance burning within them. "Using wounded people as an advantage — you've got a screwed up sense of morality, and I can't say it doesn't piss me off."

Sasuke wisely remained silent, but Naruto responded in his place with a tone full of indignance, "Like you've got the right to talk! Why are you even _here_?"

"That's none of your business," she scoffed, clicking her gun in wordless warning. "And if I were you, I'd watch my words. I've got a couple of harmless questions, and since we have _lots _of time, let's get along, why don't we?"

"Like hell I'm answering _anything, _you crazy—"

"Uh, _wrong._" Another click, and the nozzle of the gun was pushed against the back of Naruto's skull. The blonde cringed. "Who's the one calling the shots here, kid?"

Once the shroud of blinding fright over Hinata's mind cleared, observation came almost naturally. The woman looked to be in her late twenties, appoximately. An odd, dull hue of teal, her eyes were, and her sand-coloured hair was tied into an even odder hairstyle; two pairs of spiky ponytails Hinata wasn't sure she had ever seen on anyone before. Her features were nearly as sharp as Naruto's, all except the fact that they lacked that subtly artificial air. With a smirk that seemed ever-present, and eyes that seemed all-seeing, she was not, by any means, a female of delicacy — and the gun loosely held in her right hand did all it could to reinforce that opinion.

"Dude, seriously, _why the hell are you here_? This is—"

"_I'm _asking the questions, alright?" she firmly said. "First things first, what do you know about Gaara's—"

"Do you think," Sasuke said quietly, gazing straight ahead, "that we'll tell you everything once you have the threat of death looming over our heads?"

The woman paused contemplatively, easing her hold on the trigger. She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes at the raven-haired man (who did nothing to return the intense scrutiny), and just when Hinata began to feel the tension weighing her down, she huffed and lowered the gun to her side.

"I probably wouldn't kill you, anyway," she murmured.

Naruto sighed, visibly relaxing, but Sasuke revealed not the slightest hint of triumph or relief in his aloof expression.

"We'll ask again," he interrupted the brief moment of silent reassurance. "Why are you here?"

"And I'll answer again: that's none of your fucking business," the sandy-blonde snarled. The lack of her previous composure caused Hinata to wonder whether the newfound irritability pertained to the ones bracing the topic, or to the topic itself.

"Sensitive subject, I see," Naruto broke in smugly, sounding self-satisfied enough for Hinata to suspect that he already had an inkling as to what the woman's reason was. He ignored the annoyance that flashed in the eyes of both his supposed adversary, as well his companion.

"You know what? On second thought—"

The sound of sirens prevented the woman from retrieving her gun from the holster again. The five could hear vans pouring into the outside grounds — doors sliding open, slamming shut, the rustle of sheets as the injured were loaded onto stretchers, and they all, for the first few moments, could manage to do nothing but look back and forth at one another, before Sasuke breathed in and announced, "Ten minutes. At most, that's all they'll take."

"Shit," the blonde woman cursed, shuffling her feet. "Those fuckers just don't know how to give up."

Hinata gripped Sakura's elbow and promptly steered her toward the exit.

"Wait, we can't—_Hinata_—!"

"We have to go, Sakura-san," she pleaded, glancing at Sakura, at the retreating backs of the two men, and back at Sakura again. Her friend offered only feeble resistance, and it wasn't long before Hinata had pulled her out of the building. Once the two had collapsed against the wall, surrounded by threatening noises growing increasingly louder, the dull murmurs of conversation closer than they would have preferred, Sakura was forced to abandon any prospects of stopping and talking to the two boys any further.

"We'll... we'll meet them again," Hinata reassured, more uncertain and shaken than she could disclose herself being. "We'll meet them again."

-:-:-:-:-


End file.
